Something Inside Me Shuts Down And I'm

It's Impossible To Be The Mockingjay. Impossible To Complete Even This One Sentence. Because Now I Know That Everything I Say Will Be Directly Taken Out On Peeta. Result In His Torture. But Not His Death, No Nothing So Merciful As That. Snow Will Ensure That His Life Is Much Worse Than Death.

He Tilts His Forehead Down To Rest Against Mine And Pulls Me Closer. His Skin, His Whole Being Radiates Heat From Being So Near The Fire, And I Close My Eyes, Soaking In His Warmth. I Breathe In The Smell Of Snow-dampened Leather And Smoke And Apples, The Smell Of All Those Wintry Days We Shared Before The Games. I Don't Try To Move Away. Why Should I Anyway? His Voice Drops To A Whisper. "i Love You." That's Why.

I Merely Feel Emptyness. A Hollow Of Dead Brush Where Flowers Use To Bloom.

So Instead Of Acknowledging Applause, I Stand There Unmoving While They Take Part In The Boldest Form Of Dissent They Can Manage. Silence. Which Says We Do Not Agree. We Do Not Condone. All Of This Is Wrong.

Something Flickers Across His Bloodshot Eyes. Pain.